Sunday, November 14, 2010

"Because Saying No to Neuroticism Was a Lie"

Dear friends,

Two years ago, when I was the TA for the biblical Greek class at Northwestern, the professor began class on the first day by reciting a passage in Greek, flawlessly and ominously. Although he did not translate the Greek for the class, he set the stage for fear (and later revealed to me that the passage was about death and the coming day of doom). Then, he asked the students what they had heard from others about the reputation of the class.

Without hesitation, a student spoke up: "I heard that at the beginning of the year, you put our soul in a jar, and if we fail the class, you smash the jar."

Hilarity ensued. Are you kidding me, student? Please say that at the beginning of every class for the rest of your life.

All laughter aside, though, this student's comment was exactly the way I had approached the Greek class. I had spent every day of my sophomore year, whilst taking Greek, studying desperately so that my soul-in-the-jar-that-is-Greek-class would not be smashed because of my failure. I printed off my quiz and test grades and hung them next to my pillow so that I could measure my success and/or failure every day before sleeping and upon waking. I stopped looking at the sky while walking, as my flashcards were ever before me. I woke up thinking about Greek. I went to bed thinking about Greek. I was obsessed. I was obsessed because the language was something that I could control and master, and I would control it and I would master it. I told my friends that if I did not get an A on the final, I would be so humiliated that I would just start walking to Mexico, scattering my flashcards in the wind as I went.

I was neurotic. I mean, a really, seriously crazy person. I had to be the best in the class. If I missed the extra credit points on the quizzes, then I had failed. My friend made me a sign to hang in my room that read: "I must beat Ben! Ben is weak! I will be first!" I thought Ben to be my competition in the class. I eyed him warily during class. I had to beat him.

I did not want to disappoint my professor with my failure. I did not want him to smash my soul. Missed points on quizzes would be a personal affront to him. He would lose all respect for me as a human being.

I get the hint, though, that not everyone approaches their academic endeavors in this way.

I still do, though.

Looking an instructor or professor of mine in the eye is ultimately a bad idea. This means that I am bound to him or her. With eye contact comes the need to impress. After eye contact, carelessness is egregious. Perfection is encouraged. After eye contact, poorly constructed sentences and leaps in logic and missed vocabulary words are a personal affront to my instructors. They no longer care for me as a person. I am nothing in their eyes.

Anxiety, not hilarity, ensues.

My tutor in Oxford, Albus Andrew, wrote in his comments on my transcript: "Sara makes very high demands of herself, but has achieved much more than she gives herself credit for." (Ha, Albus Andrew ended a sentence with a preposition).

How, though, does one give herself credit for the work she does? How does one evaluate the presentation that he gave without wanting to jump through the 3rd floor classroom windows? When is a paper something that she can be proud of writing?

As a student, I put my soul in a jar and wait for it to be smashed. Expect it to be smashed. Envision it being smashed.

The truth of the matter, though, is that I am the one smashing it.

If I had my way, I'd stop smashing my soul-jar and instead live my life being the person in this quote by Mary Oliver: "Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight."

This is my hope. To be sure, I think that I will never be the person in this quote, but that is because of my still persistent smashing.

The prophets, Isaiah and Micah point to a vision of justice in which the world's people "will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore" (2:4 and 4:3, respectively).

May this vision extend also to those who take up their swords and their spears and yield them daily against themselves. May this vision extend to those for whom daily anxiety ensues. May this vision extend to those who put their souls in a jar and wait expectantly for them to be smashed.

Take your soul out of the jar. Love your soul. Love yourself.

God, grant us the courage.

Sara

8 comments:

  1. "Sara makes very high demands of herself, but has achieved much more than she gives herself credit for, asshole."

    http://www.inhabitatiodei.com/2009/08/13/a-stanely-hauerwas-classic/

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  2. Let me just say that even though I wrote this, I am still obsessively studying my Greek flashcards right now. Even though I have a huge presentation in 2 days and a huge paper due in 3 days. Even though I'm taking the class pass/fail. Even though we can drop one quiz, and all my other quiz grades have been perfect.

    My soul is still in the jar. Everything I write is a lie.

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  3. Nope. It's not a lie. Because before, you didn't even see the jar and now you know it's there. And you know that you're the one smashing it, not your professors. THAT is amazing. :-)

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  4. Sara,

    I realized yesterday after a long, intense convo (I hate the abbreviation "convo") with a close friend that I too am smashing my own soul jar. I should stop. I'm really going to. It's what a Real Person would do. This was great. Thank you.
    xx

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  5. "Missed points on quizzes would be a personal affront to him."

    I still think this. Do we need a support group?

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  6. DId you proofread and/or edit this post as you wrote it? Did you painstakingly choose the words that formed your sentences? Or did it just naturally flow from your brain through your fingers and into cyberspace?

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  7. I always proofread as I write. That's why I'm such a slow writer. I won't type a sentence until I know that I am satisfied with it. I spend an average of 2 hours on each blog post, but this one probably took me 1.5 hours because this post reveals more of the truth that is always within me. I was learning things about myself as my fingers typed the words. So I would say this post flowed pretty naturally out of my brain, but it was filtered through the editing process that my brain always does before typing.

    What are you trying to gauge?

    I am also quite interested in learning how people think by looking at their writing. I often wish that their thoughts would happen in my head (CUE FREDERICK BUECHNER).

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